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Michael Hendrickson

published by dcarver on Mon, 12/10/2012 - 15:49

Well, tomorrow, I ride 200+ to bury my buddy Michael...

Mike was my good bud in the 70's. He was the most intellectual uneducated man I ever met. Read about 10 books a week at one time. Any topic, history, religion, science philosophy, technology, GAME ON! His mind was his worst demon and best friend. Unfortunately, the demons won more than not, and his self-medicated isolation led to divorce from a fine woman, loneliness, and ultimate death, singular, stark, alone.

Truly a wonderful man, truly, in honesty, a sad saga.

I can only hope that Mike, Mr. BMW, Mr. Renaissance Man, my bud, is no longer tormented by the devils and angels that haunted him on his earth bound journey.
Fly on the heaveans, my friend.

On to the frank and surreal logistics of burying a bud...
and these pix are wonderfully out of order, just like the chaotic mind of my bud Mike's...

("Somber Man" phrase lifted from George, Cynndy's 'new' husband of 10+ years and a truly GREAT guy.

Shit like this is so interesting, if you pay attention. The Mexican grave workers, just doing there job - digging holes, putting dead peeps in ground. I wonder what they say when their kids ask "What did you do today, Daddy?" Interesting side note - while I was taking pix of the ground workers placing Mike in the earth, I was scolded - "NO pictures", and wondered why the fuck not? I instantly thought of what 'Mike would think/say" and kept taking pix. I mean, really, what are they going to do, kick my ass out of the cemetery for taking pix?

Only as typing this do I wonder if the workers *might* be illegally in country or if that thought is just perhaps a bit of underlying racism coming through?
At this point, I'm to emotionally drained to engage in higher thought, and like at Mike's burial.. just try to keep keeping on.

At points in time, Mike, in his 'state' of mind really did not like, appreciate, his brother. He felt taken advantage of, used, abused. As much as I loved Mike, he was not of correct thinking, and it was family, and extended family, that provided for him with food and hard love when most needed. This love was not rewarded with appreciation.
In this pix, Ludo, his childhood friend, Geralud, his brother, George, Cynndy's hubbie, look on.

I think it's time I shut up an just let the out of order pix speak for themselves. Just like Mike experienced life, like my emotions right now. A dazzling array of brilliant factoids confused by primordial emotions, fueled by past experiences and self medication.

For sad reasons, this is my favorite pix of the ceremony. The Catholic father was low-key, casual, no one cried at the ceremony, the father had many references to 'an imperfect life' and the glory of all life, which is cool.
Then, at some point in time, grief, sorrow, what-if's, and moment of realizations.

Saying goodbye to a friend is hard. Especially if that friend, who reaches out to you, and you don't respond, because he is sooo far out there you worry about current loved ones, so you don't respond, then find out months later your bud in memories has died. Yes, I'm really struggling with this one. Goodbye, Michael Hendrickson, hope you don't kick my ass when we meet again..

On the brighter side of the life/death equation, this little guy is Mike's grandson, Jaxon, IIRC. If, for no other reason, and there are many other reasons, Mike's life was appreciated and loved.

Ron and Jaxon. Ron is such a cool young dude. Doing the right things, taking care of his family, striving to be the best. I see alot of me, in my younger years, in this fine young man. Ron represents what is good about our country, a family man, taking responsibility, stepping up, and a just a really nice guy. Anyway I can, I'll help Ron and Katie in the future.

Cynndy and Paula, taking care of the young' un. One word - these two woman are awesome. Don't mess with them. They have been through hell n' back and you ain't nothing if you mess with them. They are wonderful humans and we all should strive to be like these two sisters in blood.

At some point in time, in most points in time, critters in our lives provide the most solitude. This peep, Cooper, is kinda messed up. But he liked me, so he's my bud, and if *you* call him messed up I'll kick yer butt.

Someday, perhaps, Jaxon will appreciate what happened here. His life experiences will mold him to the man he will be, and maybe, perhaps due to time, he'll think of Grandpa Mike as I knew Mike, a nice man, with a gentle heart, wild streak and incredible intellict.

Final resting for Mike, RIP my friend.

I leave with this last picture. At some point in time, it comes down to fucking overpriced box observed by the only true peeps you ever had while walking the earth, a tube of glue, some cheap shit all weather indoor-outdoor carpet, a poor SOB being paid minimum wage, and a huge corporation making mega-bucks to so solidify your place on planet earth.
Now then, tell me again why you are not LIVING you dreams with your LIMITED time on EARTH to make the best MEMORIES you can?

Thank you so much for your words and your friendship Don. Mike was, as you say a nice man, with a gentle heart and incredible intellect. His life force vibrated with such an intensity that I think few of us know and I know few of us could bear. His struggle to harness that force of life caused him much pain and isolation even when surrounded by people who loved him. So I join with you in wishing for him a peaceful journey in whatever is beyond this place. No need for guilt now. You were a good and loved friend to Mike. He knew you cared for him and he also knew his effect on people. Any of us would and have reacted in the same way to similar situations with Mike. We have to self preserve or get sucked into life circumstances that we cannot easily break free from. You were right to think of and protect the people in your life. Thank you for being such a good friend, for your sacrifice of a days work to join us on Friday to say goodbye to Mike, for taking and posting the pictures and sharing your memories and thoughts. I've heard it said that no one is truly gone so long as we remember them. When we speak of them and say their name they are still as present in our lives as if they were standing in the room with us. So, remember Mike with fond thoughts and know that he remembers you that way too. Love you much, Cynndy